


Comfortably Numb

by neversaydie



Series: Somewhat Damaged [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Clint and Tony are Bros, Depression, Friendship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversaydie/pseuds/neversaydie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The others don't understand the difference between actively wanting to kill himself and the lazy, half-hearted preference towards not being alive that he feels on days like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfortably Numb

Today, Clint's so fucking tired that he wants to die.

These are the days that scare people the most, which is why he does his best not to let on that he's having one anymore. The others don't understand the difference between actively wanting to kill himself and the slow, lazy, half-hearted preference towards not being alive that he feels on days like this. Then again, he supposes, most people don't feel suicidal more than maybe once, let alone have different brands of the feeling crawling around in the backs of their minds day after day.

Days like today, he often ends up sitting down somewhere and isn't able to make himself get back up again. Sometimes he'll fall asleep; that's when it's good. Other times, it'll take him an hour to work up to getting his phone out of his pocket and getting hold of someone to come and help him. There's only a few people he trusts enough to call: Phil, Tasha, Bruce. It's a short list that eventually gets one more name added to it.

Tony hadn't been on the list until the time he'd come across Clint on a particularly bad day, before he'd been able to make himself reach out to anyone and after he'd started banging his head sluggishly against the wall in frustration. Surprisingly, the billionaire had known exactly how to get Clint up and moving again, depositing him somewhere soft and safe until he'd finally gone to sleep. It wasn't until he'd woken up a few hours later to a guilty looking Tony, who'd sheepishly rattled a prescription bottle at him, that Clint understood.

"I'm not as bad as you, obviously." Tony had looked almost apologetic, like he hadn't meant to keep his condition a secret from the archer. "I've been on meds since I was a teenager, so I'm on a combo that works for me right now. It ironed out pretty well once I stopped pretending it wasn't there."

Clint had just nodded at him, mutely. It was the only time they'd discussed it, haven't since, but sometimes it makes Clint feel a bit better to know he could explain quick-suicidal and slow-kinda-wanna-die to Tony and he'd probably know what he meant. His friends would make sympathetic attempts, of course, but it gives him a patch of stable ground to know someone might actually _understand_ the guts and sinews of what he's struggling through.

Now, when he realises it's a day like today, he goes down to Tony's workshop and curls up on one of the big ledges near the ceiling, out of the way of anything hot or sharp or dangerous. They leave each other alone for the most part, Tony occasionally checking in or trying to make Clint laugh at some dirty joke, but staying in their own space. He doesn't need to be mothered, just to share the air with someone while he tries to remember that he likes being alive.

Of course he can talk to Phil, and he does, but that's not what it's about. Phil is just as scared of Clint's bad days as anyone else, even more so because he loves him. Phil can listen and help, but sometimes Clint just doesn't want him to be afraid of him. 'Of him' and 'for him' are blurred lines these days, and Clint isn't sure which is worse when it comes to fear. He doesn't want to scare Phil if he can help it, and he so frequently can't fucking help it these days that he'll take any way he can get to avoid it.

So Clint and Tony breathe the same air while too-loud music plays and Clint never does tell him about fast-death and slow-not-living, but it doesn't matter. Tony doesn't get scared and Clint doesn't scare him, and they never talk about it. It works. Sometimes it works well enough that a terrible day gets a little better and becomes a bad one instead. When that happens, Clint can go home and pull a smile and Phil won't get that look in his eyes that's half worry and half pain, and that's enough for Clint.

And when Tony gets the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the workshop door replaced with one that says 'Already Disturbed, Proceed With Caution,' Clint's the only one who gets it. It ends up being the first time he laughs about his illness, a weird little chuckle that has Bruce glancing at him sideways from across the lab, concerned. He doesn't get it.

That's okay, Clint thinks, he doesn't have to. The others don't need to understand, because he's got Phil as his compass, holding him steady, and Tony steering through the same choppy waters beside him. That's enough to hold him together on days like these, turn a terrible day into a bad one. That's enough, for now. 

**Author's Note:**

> Another part in the Somewhat Damaged 'verse. These parts can be read in pretty much any order as they're mostly non-chronological. Feedback is very welcome.


End file.
